


what the night does to the day

by deathbyglamour



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-07-17 09:16:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16092617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathbyglamour/pseuds/deathbyglamour
Summary: When a potions accident leaves Yahaba magically bonded to Kyoutani, he definitely loses his mind - but not for the reason he expects.alternatively titled: Yahaba & Kyoutani's Get-Along Shirt





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi! real quick: this fic is already complete, it will be three chapters and then an 'epilogue' that I'm really only calling an epilogue because it's so much shorter than the rest :/ but anyway, the remaining chapters just need a bit more editing before I post them. It shouldn't take me too long, hopefully around a week give or take to get the whole thing up. thanks for reading and I hope you have fun with it!

Yahaba spared a moment, briefly, to wonder what he’d done in a past life to warrant the torment of his current one. 

_Killed someone, maybe,_ he thought gloomily, chin in his hand, as he sat in the Potions classroom. Beside him, exuding a natural heat and presence that made Yahaba feel all prickly and awkward, sat his worst enemy for all seven years of his schooling – Kyoutani Kentarou. 

Normally he would be sitting next to Watari, his fellow Slytherin classmate, maybe exchanging jokes when Professor Oikawa wasn’t within earshot. Instead Watari sat somewhere behind him, probably thrilled to be paired up with that pretty Hufflepuff girl. And Yahaba was here, next to Kyoutani, saying nothing and feeling sulkier by the minute.

At the front of the classroom, Professor Oikawa had launched into an enthusiastic lecture about the fascinating properties of the potion they were brewing today. Out of spite, Yahaba was tuning it out. Ordinarily he hung on the former Potions prodigy’s every word, but it was the professor’s fault he was in this situation to begin with.

Well, perhaps that wasn’t entirely true. It was Yahaba who’d gotten in an argument with Kyoutani on their first day of seventh year classes, an argument which escalated quickly – as most of their arguments did – and resulted in (minor!) destruction of property. So, not entirely the professor’s fault, for pairing them up in an effort to force them to get along. 

It was mostly Kyoutani’s fault, then. For saying what he did, acting the way he did around Slytherins. For being so naturally infuriating, without even trying. 

“Alright!” the professor said. “With that, you may begin brewing. Remember what I’ve told you, and brew with the utmost caution. Start!” 

Shit. Yahaba jolted upright, realizing that due to his desire to boycott the lecture, he had no idea what potion they were even making. He glanced at the blackboard as the professor made his way to his desk at the back of the classroom. 

Amortentia. There was a cauldron full of it in the center of the room, so that they would know what it was meant to look like when done properly. After flipping to the correct page in his textbook, Yahaba strode over to the potion to examine it. 

It was lovely, actually, for such a nasty thing. The pearlescent coloring, the spiraling steam…and the wonderful fragrance, smelling of burning incense and something vaguely floral, as well as a scent Yahaba couldn’t quite identify. It was spicy and masculine, and somehow familiar, although he couldn’t think where he’d smelled it before.

Satisfied with his examination, he headed back to his seat. And his doom, probably. 

To his annoyance, Kyoutani hadn’t even moved from his spot. He’d at least opened his textbook, but he was just sitting there, looking about as pleased as Yahaba felt. 

Yahaba loomed over him, thankful as always for the advantage of his height. “Let’s get a move on, then?” he suggested. 

Kyoutani looked up, scowling. “Just because we have to pair up now, don’t think I’m gonna take orders from you.”

Yahaba suppressed the urge to smash something again. That’s what got him into this to begin with. Instead, he rolled his eyes. 

“Well, I’m hardly going to let you sit there while I do all the work, am I?”

Kyoutani snorted. “As if.” He stood up, finally, and followed Yahaba to the storage cabinet.

Working together was immensely strained and awkward at first, but eventually they managed to work out a system that allowed them to brew while saying the minimum amount possible to each other. And then it was actually…not terrible. Kyoutani was surprisingly adept with his hands, so he took over preparation of most of the ingredients. Yahaba added them and did the complicated stirring, keeping an eye on it as it passed through various phases. It was quiet, but somehow the awkwardness faded out as they worked efficiently. Yahaba had always enjoyed potions, but he’d figured Kyoutani would be useless as a partner. Not so, maybe. 

Toward the end of the period, Yahaba stirred the potion, and then frowned. Despite their efficiency and their system, it was looking distinctly un-mother-of-pearl colored, and was in fact starting to bubble strangely. 

“This doesn’t look right,” he said, biting his lip. 

Grunting, Kyoutani stood up from where he was stooped over his textbook and approached the cauldron. They peered into it together. 

Something exploded, very close to Yahaba’s face. 

He gasped and shut his eyes reflexively, right as a second, louder explosion happened. Liquid spattered his face and got in his hair and mouth, but luckily his eyes were spared. Kyoutani sounded less lucky, if the howl of pain was any indication. 

Yahaba kept his eyes shut, so that he could continue pretending for a moment that their love potion hadn’t just exploded in their faces. Surely nothing good could come of that. 

“What. The. Fuck.” Kyoutani’s voice was a growl. 

Yahaba opened his eyes. Unsurprisingly, the entire class was staring at them. Some looked shocked, others (mostly Yahaba’s housemates) looked like they were trying not to snicker. 

“Shigeru! Ken!” Professor Oikawa practically flew over, eyes wide. “Are you alright?”

_Was_ he alright? Yahaba paused to take stock of his emotional state. Physically he felt fine, that wasn’t a concern. The issue was…how did he feel about Kyoutani? He checked, staring at the boy across from him. He looked ridiculous, head and shoulders coated in the sort of oil slick-colored liquid their potion turned out. The only thing that kept Yahaba from pointing and laughing was the fact that he could feel that he was in the same state. But other than the desire to laugh, he felt…not a lot. That was surprising in its own way. In the past, when he’d thought of Kyoutani, he’d felt anything from mild annoyance to burning rage, depending on how long ago they’d argued. But after working with him today, achieving the temporary peace they had, he found that anger had simmered off into…curiosity?

“It got in my eye,” Kyoutani said. He was glaring at Yahaba. “ _And_ my mouth.”

“It got in my mouth too,” Yahaba shot back. Kyoutani glared harder, like this was his fault somehow. Which it was most certainly _not_. Some of that familiar anger bubbled up. 

“Yes, but…how do you _feel?_ ” Professor Oikawa looked between the two of them, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he realized they were physically unharmed. “It was meant to be Amortentia, after all.”

“I don’t feel particularly lovey-dovey, if that’s what you mean.” Kyoutani said, still glaring. 

“Thank god for that,” Yahaba said icily, leveling him with a nasty look of his own. But it was a relief that he, too, was not feeling the effects of a love potion.

“Now, now,” Professor Oikawa said, starting to look almost amused. “You two should get to the infirmary. Obviously you have not brewed Amortentia. There’s no telling what possible effects this could have had.”

“Yes, sir,” Yahaba said gloomily. Kyoutani just grunted, finally removing his laser glare from Yahaba so he could gather up his things. Yahaba did the same, as the professor vanished the mess from the surrounding area of the explosion. 

They had to keep the mess on their faces, however, so that Takeda-sensei could test it as well as them. It was a small mercy that there were still a few minutes of class left, and the halls were deserted. Yahaba walked as quickly as possible, which was quite quickly given his height. He could hear Kyoutani struggling to keep up with him, and resisted the urge to smirk. 

Takeda came bustling out of his office when he heard them enter the infirmary. His eyes widened as he took in their state. 

“Oh dear,” he said, face turning sympathetic. “Potions accident, I presume?”

“Got it in one,” Yahaba said, attempting a smile. It didn’t quite work. Although he didn’t feel any different, he found himself fretting over what any potential tests would show. Nothing, hopefully, but somehow Yahaba doubted it. It was never nothing with magic. 

Takeda used his wand to siphon the liquid off their faces and into glass vials. 

“I’ll test these,” he said, nodding firmly, “And you as well. After class, I’m sure Professor Oikawa will come down to help me analyze the potion.”

Yahaba felt a bit relieved at that. He had the utmost confidence that Professor Oikawa, given his skill, could sort out whatever mess they’d made.

They laid back on the infirmary beds as Takeda ran tests on them, surrounding them both with multicolored auras that flowed from his wand. Takeda had insisted they spend the night in the infirmary, “just in case.” 

Yahaba spent the time thinking sadly of the dinner feast that was currently occurring, according to the clock on the opposite wall. Finally, Takeda lowered his wand. 

“Well, boys,” he began, and Yahaba knew instantly from his expression that he’d found something. “There is definitely some sort of magic at work between the two of you. With further analysis, we’ll be able to determine exactly what is going on here.”

“Shit,” Kyoutani said, and for once Yahaba wholeheartedly agreed with him. Ingesting a misbrewed love potion was not likely to glean any positive results. 

“Language,” Takeda said, but he offered a smile. “I don’t believe it to be anything life-threatening. And Professor Oikawa should be down any minute now.”

As if summoned, the infirmary doors flew open and Professor Oikawa entered. 

“Anything?” he asked Takeda, after pausing briefly to look Yahaba and Kyoutani over. 

“I was just telling the boys, I’m detecting some sort of link between their magical signatures. The nature of it is unclear, however it doesn’t appear to be an immediate threat.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Professor Oikawa said, cheerful. “To make the nature of it clear. Worry not, pupils!”

“Great,” Kyoutani muttered under his breath. Yahaba shot him a glare. He shot one back. They began an all-out glare battle until Takeda cleared his throat to remind them that he existed. 

“We’ll spend tonight analyzing, and in the morning we should have an answer for you two!” 

_Am I going to like that answer?_ Yahaba wondered. 

And then the teachers went into Takeda’s office, leaving him alone in the room with Kyoutani.

An awkward silence descended. More to break it than anything else, Yahaba cleared his throat and said, “What do you suppose they’ll find?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Kyoutani grumbled, barely audible from the next bed over. 

Yahaba tried again. “Do you think it’ll be something bad?”

“What, are you chickenshit or something?”

Yahaba sat up, and Kyoutani followed suit, and they glared at each other. 

“What’s your problem?” Yahaba asked, frustrated. All they’d done since the accident was glare. A lot.

“ _My problem?_ Gee, I wonder,” Kyoutani made a mock thoughtful face. “Maybe it’s that I’ve just ingested a fucked up potion and it’s doing fuck only knows to my magical signature, and I got the shit in my fucking eye, too!”

“It’s not _my_ fault,” Yahaba said, gesturing wildly. “We both worked equally on that potion. If we fucked it up, it’s both our faults.” 

“ _If_ we fucked it up?” Kyoutani’s eyebrows rose. “I think it’s pretty fucking clear we fucked it up.”

Yahaba narrowed his eyes. “And I suppose you think snarking at me this entire time is going to make this any easier?”

Kyoutani paused, frowning. “You snark at me just as much. Besides, you’re the one trying to make stupid small talk.”

“It’s not small talk!” Yahaba burst out, and then remembered he was trying to be the bigger person. “I mean.” He cleared his throat. “It’s definitely not. I was asking if you had any insight into what’s going on.”

“You think I’d have more insight than your precious Professor Oikawa?” 

Yahaba scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Uh, I don’t know, that you’re a total teacher’s pet?”

To his horror, Yahaba felt himself flush. “Some of us just know how to be polite to our elders,” he said coolly, in an attempt to divert attention from that. 

“Right.” Kyoutani rolled his eyes. “Or suck up to them.”

Yahaba pressed his lips together. “ _You_ suck,” he said, finally, unable to stop himself. 

Kyoutani glanced up, surprised. And then he did something unexpected – he laughed. Not a sneering laugh (Kyoutani didn’t really do those), but a deep, almost friendly-sounding laugh. 

Yahaba opened his mouth, confused, but Kyoutani held a hand up as his laughter subsided. His cheeks were pink. Yahaba stared. 

“You’re incredibly strange, did you know that?” he asked.

“Whatever,” Kyoutani rolled his eyes again, but he turned over in his bed so that his back was facing Yahaba and didn’t prolong their argument. Did that mean Yahaba had won?

He leaned back against the pillows. Now that it was quiet again, and less awkwardly this time, he could hear the faint murmur of the teachers’ voices from the office, and little else. 

Eventually, house elves came carrying plates of food from the feast, which Yahaba was immensely grateful for. So grateful that he was able to refrain from commenting on Kyoutani’s appalling table manners. 

He’d been certain that he would get no sleep that night, but with his stomach full and the lights dim, his eyelids grew heavy. Before drifting off, he glanced over at Kyoutani. The other boy was reading a book by wandlight. It illuminated his face oddly, making it look softer in some places. Yahaba watched him mouth the words as he read for a moment, then turned away and promptly fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know, i'm not even really that into haikyuu anymore, but like...this ship/aoba josai in general transcends that.
> 
> by the way, the title is from "she's thunderstorms" by arctic monkeys. thanks again for reading, see you soon!


	2. Chapter 2

Yahaba woke early the next morning. For a few blissful moments he lay half-asleep, comfortable in his bed, only half aware of anything. Then his eyes came open, and he realized he wasn’t in the Slytherin dorms, and it all came back to him. He sighed, heavily. 

“Can’t sleep?” came a rough-sounding voice from the next bed. 

Yahaba turned his head, and found Kyoutani staring at him. He didn’t look hostile, just tired. Yahaba could relate. 

“Apparently not,” he said, settling back against his pillows. “You too?”

“Got a lot on my mind,” Kyoutani grunted.

_For once,_ Yahaba almost said. But it seemed wrong to start an argument this early in the morning, when everything was still soft and muted.

So he said nothing, and stared up at the ceiling instead. He must have dozed off again, because he woke to Takeda shaking his shoulder gently. Professor Oikawa was beside him, looking rather grim. Yahaba’s heart sank.

“Good morning, you two,” he said. “We’ve finished the analysis on the potion, and we believe we know exactly what is going on here.”

“Yes…?” Yahaba said slowly. He was more than a little nervous. Maybe he was chickenshit after all.

The professor and Takeda exchanged a glance. “Well!” Takeda said, clapping his hands together. He looked even shorter than usual next to Oikawa. “We were right in our initial assumption, the potion is not lethal. Exactly.”

“Exactly?” Yahaba said, struggling to keep a note of hysteria out of his voice. Beside him, Kyoutani said nothing. 

Professor Oikawa took over. “It appears, boys, that the misbrewed potion has caused your magical signatures to bind together. Quite closely, in fact.”

“You said something similar yesterday,” Yahaba said, “but what does that mean?”

The teachers looked at each other again. “To put it simply, we believe that if you stray too far from one another you may…lose the ability to do magic. Temporarily, of course.”

Yahaba couldn’t stop his face from morphing into a mask of horror. 

“Fuck,” Kyoutani said, with feeling. Oikawa made a face, but didn’t reprimand him for his language like he usually would.

“Yes, well. We have determined that there may be additional symptoms, such as severe headaches, nausea, and…possible coma, if you are too far from one another for prolonged periods of time.”

“How far?” Yahaba asked, his voice coming out at a higher pitch than normal. 

“For now, as long as you are both on school grounds, the bond should be satisfied.” Takeda attempted a smile, but Yahaba wasn’t having it. 

“For now?” he echoed. 

“There is a chance…” Oikawa hesitated, then plowed on. “That the bond may intensify, requiring closer and closer proximity until nothing but touch will do.”

Yahaba’s face heated up. He didn’t think he’d ever touched Kyoutani in his life, except maybe to tap him on the shoulder in class. And now his teacher was telling him that he might have to, what, hold hands with him just to use magic? Just to not fall into a coma? 

“We’re not at that point yet, though,” Takeda said quickly. “Such bond intensifying, if it occurs, will take months to get that extreme. We will, of course, be spending all our free time researching the antidote.”

“I’m on the case, so you definitely don’t have to worry,” Oikawa said, beaming. 

Yahaba nodded, temporarily pacified. Professor Oikawa was a potions genius. If anyone could figure it out, it was him. He glanced over at Kyoutani. The other boy looked significantly less reassured. He’d gone a strange puce color and his fists were clenched. 

“In the meantime, you will attend classes as normal,” Takeda continued. “If you experience any strange effects, come to me at once.”

After a few more reassurances that they would resolve this issue as fast as possible, the teachers left. Last night, Yahaba left his school robes folded on the table beside the bed, and he noted with mild disdain that Kyoutani had simply left his in a heap on the floor. He pulled his pajama shirt off and grabbed the button-up he wore under his robes. Kyoutani made a strangled noise. 

“What?” Yahaba asked, turning around as he did the buttons on the black shirt. Kyoutani’s face was still oddly colored. 

“Why are you just stripping in front of me?” he demanded. 

Yahaba blinked, and then blushed. Again. He was getting tired of it. “What? Have you never seen your housemates get undressed?” 

“’S different,” he mumbled, looking away. 

“How!” Yahaba said, throwing his hands in the air. But Kyoutani seemed content to stare at the wall with his hands curled into fists and say nothing. 

Feeling somewhat awkward, Yahaba finished changing and straightened up. 

“I’m going down to breakfast,” he said, unsure of exactly why he was explaining himself, but doing it nonetheless. “Hopefully…uh…nothing bad will happen.”

“Do what you want,” Kyoutani said. He still hadn’t moved from the bed, and he sounded very tired. 

“Fine, I will,” Yahaba said, frowning. He strode out of the infirmary and into the halls of the castle. Despite the teachers’ reassurances, it was something of a relief when he made it to the Great Hall without his head exploding.

He spotted Watari instantly, eating with their younger housemate Kunimi. When he made his way over to them, Watari lit up and waved him over. Yahaba smiled, despite the events of the morning. It was good to be among friends again. 

“So,” Watari said, as soon as he’d sat down and spooned some scrambled eggs and bacon onto his plate, “Are you okay? They wouldn’t let me visit you last night. That explosion looked pretty nasty, though.” 

“I’m…alright,” Yahaba said, wondering how to begin explaining his situation. “Physically, anyway. Mentally? Not so sure.”

“The potion didn’t work, did it?” Watari’s eyes were wide. “You’re not in love with Kyoutani now, are you?”

Yahaba’s face blazed to life like the traitor it was. “No!” he hissed. “Of course not. It just…well, the professors spent all night analyzing the potion we made, and…”

“And?” Watari asked. Even Kunimi looked like he was hanging on Yahaba’s every word. Luckily, no one else at the table appeared to be interested. 

“Our magical signatures got bonded together,” Yahaba said, eating a forkful of eggs glumly.

“Oh, shit,” Watari said. Kunimi’s eyes widened slightly.

“Yeah, I’ve really fucked up this time,” he said. “And it had to be with Kyoutani of all people.”

“That’s rotten luck,” Watari said. “I know you’ve never gotten along.”

“Bit of an understatement,” Yahaba muttered. 

“So what exactly does that mean, for you two?”

“Worst case scenario….” He bit his lip. “We might eventually have to…touch,” he flushed again, “To use our magic, or not get really sick.” 

The look on Watari’s face, more than anything, drove home the reality of the situation. Yahaba didn’t bury his face in his arms, but only because the table was covered in food and there was no room. 

“I know,” he groaned.

At that moment, he felt something…odd click in him. Like a hunger he hadn’t even really noticed had suddenly been sated. He glanced up – Kyoutani had just entered the Great Hall, now clad in his school robes with the yellow striped tie. At the same time that Yahaba looked up, Kyoutani did too, and their eyes met. The other boy gave Yahaba an intense look, and he resisted the urge to shiver. Finally, Kyoutani turned away and went over to the Hufflepuff table. 

“Okay, that was weird,” Watari said. He had a funny smile on his face when Yahaba glanced at him. 

“This whole thing is weird,” Yahaba said. A sudden rush of self-pity welled up. Why him, of all people? And why Kyoutani? Better a stranger than him. Although, he thought, maybe not. At least Kyoutani wasn’t cruel, or the type to spread it all over the school. And on that note…

“Hey, don’t tell anybody about this, okay?” he said to his friends. Kunimi nodded, already adopting the bored expression that was his default again. 

“Of course not,” Watari said, smile more friendly this time. 

To Yahaba’s relief, he did not have potions that day. He did, however, have a class with Kyoutani. Entering the greenhouse for Herbology, he felt it again. That click. When he glanced over, Kyoutani was giving him a weird look again. Yahaba wondered, helplessly, what it meant. 

Iwaizumi, the Herbology professor, was having them grow from seed and tend to various semi-sentient plant species that year, among other things. Yahaba, planting his mandrake seed, remembered Kyoutani’s comment about him being a teacher’s pet and thought it was pretty rich, considering how Kyoutani acted in Herbology. Like there was nowhere else he’d rather be but in the greenhouse, tending to the plants or talking with the professor. It was almost endearing, he thought absently, moving on to the screechsnap. And then he froze. Endearing? That was definitely not a word he would ever use to describe Kyoutani. He wondered with mild horror if the love potion actually had worked. But he didn’t feel obsessive, more like…he was seeing something in a new light. 

As Yahaba worked, he speculated on how Kyoutani was taking the news of their condition. He certainly hadn’t seemed to be coping well when Yahaba left him in the infirmary, and then there was the odd look he had whenever they made eye contact after that. Yahaba frowned at the soil for a moment. What did those looks mean? Was Kyoutani on the brink of flying into a feral rage like the mad dog he was? Was he planning to kill Yahaba in his sleep and solve the bonding issue that way? 

He suddenly needed to know. He turned around, but Kyoutani was deep in discussion with Iwaizumi about who knew what. _After dinner,_ then, he thought. 

The rest of the day passed agonizingly slowly. Yahaba struggled in all his classes, casting charms wrong and barely paying attention to lectures. At dinner he shoveled food into his mouth as swiftly as possible, earning a raised eyebrow from Watari. 

Finally, he saw Kyoutani get up from his table with a couple other Hufflepuffs and head towards the halls. 

“Gotta go,” Yahaba said, shoving his plate aside. “I’ll catch up with you guys later, okay?” 

Watari gave him a suspicious look, but Yahaba fled before he could say anything.

He walked as fast as he could while still actually walking. With his long strides, he caught up to the Hufflepuffs easily. 

As he approached, Kyoutani turned around, before he’d even said a word. Yahaba stopped in his tracks. 

“Uh, hey,” he said, lifting a hand in greeting. 

Kyoutani nodded at his friends. “Go on without me,” he said, and they cast curious glances at Yahaba as they left. 

Kyoutani folded his arms over his chest. Although he was shorter than Yahaba, he had a certain presence that often made Yahaba feel significantly smaller (to his great annoyance). And he had muscles. That too. 

Yahaba shook his head to clear it. “I wanted to talk,” he said. “Somewhere private, maybe?”

For a moment he thought Kyoutani would refuse, but then he nodded. They walked together in silence to an empty classroom, where Yahaba leaned up against a desk. 

“Right,” he said, after a beat. “I just wanted to know…” he thought for a second, but there was really no other way of saying it. “How’re you feeling?”

Kyoutani gave him a look that suggested he thought Yahaba had finally lost it.

“Because of the bond, and stuff, I mean,” he said, waving his hand as if to sweep aside whatever weird things Kyoutani was thinking. 

There was silence again, and then Kyoutani uncrossed his arms and sighed. “Pretty shit, honestly,” he said. “I haven’t been able to do anything right in class.”

Yahaba blinked. “Damn. Me neither. But I thought it was just – uh, nothing. I didn’t know you were struggling too.”

Kyoutani took his wand out. Yahaba was surprised at the fact that he didn’t tense up and immediately grab for his own. He felt like last year, he would have. Even yesterday, he probably would have.

“Lumos,” Kyoutani said. The tip of his wand lit for a second, then flickered and went out. “Been like that all day, pretty much.”

Yahaba tried the same spell, with similar results. An awful thought struck him, and it exited his mouth without permission. 

“Do you think it’s because we aren’t touching?” 

Kyoutani almost dropped his wand. He looked a bit horrified, an expression Yahaba hadn’t really seen on him before. Yahaba hadn’t seen a lot of emotions from him other than ‘anger,’ really. 

“It’s what the professors said,” he said defensively. “We should at least try it.” 

He held out his hand, and Kyoutani stared at it like it was a venomous snake. He wiggled his fingers impatiently. If Kyoutani didn’t take his hand, he was going to look fucking stupid and overeager and – Kyoutani took his hand. 

It was warm, but not sweaty, and he had a lot of calluses. His hand was larger, but Yahaba’s fingers were longer. In fact, their hands fit together nicely. 

And then Yahaba nearly flung himself out the window for having that thought. 

Luckily Kyoutani didn’t appear to notice the red color Yahaba’s face was surely turning. He was staring at their joined hands instead.

“Your hand’s cold,” he said. 

“Whatever, we can’t all be human furnaces,” Yahaba rolled his eyes, glad to feel his blush receding. “Let’s just try it, okay?”

“Don’t boss me around,” Kyoutani said, but there was no bite to it. Yahaba ignored him. 

“Lumos,” he said. His wand flickered to life, and held the light strong. In fact, it seemed brighter than any time Yahaba had cast it in the past. 

“Lumos,” Kyoutani repeated. His light stayed steady too. 

They extinguished their wands. Semi-darkness filled the room again.

“Fuck,” Kyoutani said. “This is so shit.”

“We should tell the teachers,” Yahaba said. “So we can work out a joint class schedule. We can’t spend who knows how long being mediocre at magic, not in our seventh year.”

Kyoutani scowled. “Right. You really want to spend every lesson fucking holding hands just so we can do some charmwork?” 

Yahaba flung his free hand in the air. “What else do you suggest?”

He opened his mouth angrily, but then seemed to deflate after a moment. “I don’t fuckin’ know,” he grumbled, looking away. 

“Besides,” Yahaba said. “The bond is obviously progressing in a different way than they predicted. We should tell them.”

“Teacher’s pet,” Kyoutani muttered. 

“Herbology freak,” Yahaba shot back. Kyoutani blinked. 

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” he asked incredulously. 

Their eyes met, and Yahaba suddenly became aware that they were _still holding hands_ despite there being no need for it anymore. He dropped Kyoutani’s hand under the pretense of scrubbing his own through his hair. 

“You just…really like Herbology. Anyone can see that.”

Kyoutani narrowed his eyes, but Yahaba straightened up to his full height before the other boy could say anything. 

“Well,” he said quickly. “I’m going to tell Takeda-sensei. You can come, or not.” And he walked out the door, willing his blush to fade as he entered the fully lit corridor. 

After a moment, Kyoutani followed him down the halls to the hospital wing. As they walked, Yahaba wondered why he’d been blushing so much lately, like a first-year girl with a cru-

He stopped that thought in its tracks and pushed open the infirmary doors forcefully. 

Takeda looked worried, after they explained their situation. Oikawa, however, just noted that it was good they weren’t experiencing any of the other physical symptoms. He helped them draw up a joint class schedule – it took some working out, and they were both giving up their free study periods, but the teachers assured them they would find an antidote soon. 

Afterwards, they walked together in silence until they reached the point where Yahaba went one way and Kyoutani the other. Yahaba reflected that they’d managed to spend over an hour together without hexing each other or destroying school property, which must have been a new record. 

“Well,” Yahaba said. “I’m this way.” 

Kyoutani nodded. 

“Goodnight,” Yahaba said pointedly. Honestly, no manners. 

“’Night.”

For reasons unknown even to himself, Yahaba watched Kyoutani leave until he turned the corner and was out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Classes were, as Kyoutani predicted, humiliating. _So much for keeping this under wraps_ , Yahaba thought, as he sat in Charms clasping Kyoutani’s hand and casting with his other. He could still hear the occasional snicker from one of his classmates, but it was nothing compared to the ripple of laughter that spread when he’d first grabbed the other boy’s hand. The saving grace was that Kyoutani was left-handed, so they were able to sit side-by-side instead of in front of each other. This way, Yahaba could at least try to pretend he wasn’t holding Kyoutani’s hand. It was a little hard though, as he was always so warm, and tended to squeeze reflexively when doing a particularly tricky bit of wandwork.

By dinnertime, it seemed the whole of seventh year knew about Yahaba and Kyoutani’s predicament. The teasing from his housemates was relentless, but at least he had Watari and Kunimi, and the comments were relatively easy to tune out. They didn’t rile him up, but he couldn’t say the same for Kyoutani. He’d been fuming all day, eventually snapping at people who made particularly suggestive remarks.

After dinner, Yahaba found him again. He was alone this time. Like before, he seemed to sense Yahaba was there before he’d made himself known.

“You shouldn’t let them get to you,” he said, when Kyoutani turned around. “A reaction is what they want.”

“It’s pretty fucking hard not to,” Kyoutani muttered. “Doesn’t it piss you off? All the weird shit they’re saying about us?”

Yahaba shrugged. “Not really. It’s better than what I dealt with when I came out in fifth year. They’ll move on to something else, eventually. And you learn who your true friends are.”

Kyoutani’s face had gone blank. “Came out?”

“Yeah…?” Yahaba said slowly. There was an uncomfortable prickling sensation all over his body, one he hadn’t felt at school since age fifteen. “You didn’t know? Do you…have a problem with that?”

“Fuck no,” Kyoutani said, but his face was turning that weird color again.

Yahaba crossed his arms. “What, is it going to bother you that we have to hold hands now? You know, Kyoutani, I never would’ve taken you for a homophobe.”

Kyoutani had looked like he was about to blow up, and he did.

“I’m not a fucking homophobe,” he spat. “How the fuck could I be?”

Yahaba blinked. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, you’re…also?”

Kyoutani rolled his eyes, and kept them facing up at the ceiling. “Yeah, you absolute tool.”

“How was I supposed to know?” Yahaba said defensively, but he wasn’t particularly upset. In fact, he felt incredibly light, like some heretofore unnoticed weight had lifted from his chest.

“This conversation sucks. I’m going to my dorm,” Kyoutani said.

“See you tomorrow, then,” Yahaba called at his retreating form. He only got a hand wave in acknowledgement, but it didn’t bother him.

On the way back to his dorm, he couldn’t stop smiling, and refused to think about why.

 

Things proceeded in a similar manner for a couple weeks. They held hands in class, and sometimes Yahaba tracked Kyoutani down and they discussed their situation. He also made periodic trips to the hospital wing to check on their progress, but they didn’t seem to really be making any.

One night, sixteen days after the potions accident, Yahaba woke with a splitting headache. He lay in his green four-poster bed, clutching his head and resisting the urge to groan aloud. Finally, he couldn’t take it any longer. He had a feeling he knew exactly what was going on.

He strode through the quiet castle, hoping fervently that he didn’t pass out from the pain on his way. He’d nearly made it down to the kitchens when he heard a scuffling noise from somewhere to his right. He froze, and then realized abruptly that his headache was gone.

“Kyoutani?” he hissed into the darkness.

“Yahaba?” came the surprised answer. And then, darkly, “You too?”

Yahaba approached the shadowy form of the other boy. “I had a fucking splitting headache, if that’s what you mean.”

“Me too, but it’s gone now.”

“At least we don’t have to touch to get rid of it,” Yahaba said, attempting to look on the bright side. Kyoutani snorted.

They went down to the hospital wing and guiltily woke up Takeda, explaining their situation. He was worried, but set them up in two beds pushed together and promised to call Oikawa in the morning. Yahaba slept fitfully, uncomfortably aware of how close he was to Kyoutani.

Early the next day, the professors conducted the tests that Yahaba had almost grown accustom to, and determined that yes, the bond had intensified. They would now experience the other physical symptoms if they spent too long apart.

It was almost not a problem. They had joint classes already, and agreed to take turns eating at each other’s tables – Hufflepuff for breakfast, Slytherin for dinner. There was no shortage of laughter and snide comments when Kyoutani sat down next to Yahaba at the Slytherin table that evening, though. Kyoutani’s hands were white-knuckled around his silverware. Yahaba started presenting anyone who snickered with his sharpest glare.

“So…” Watari said, staring between the two of them. “Whats, um, up?”

“Bond shit,” Yahaba said. “It got worse.”

Watari’s eyes widened. “Already? I thought it would take longer.”

“I’ve just got great luck, I suppose,” he said dryly. Beside him, Kyoutani covered his laugh with a cough.

The real issue, though, arose when dinner was over. Normally, at this time Yahaba would go to his common room, and either study, read, or hang out with his housemates. But he would not be sleeping in his dorm anymore, not until the situation had been sorted out.

Instead, Professor Oikawa had set them up in one of the spare bedrooms intended for teachers. This was all well and good, except for one thing that became exceedingly obvious as soon as Yahaba set foot in the room.

There was a double bed.

It made sense, he supposed. A teacher wouldn’t have a single bed. And they had to be close when they slept, or risk a headache when they awoke in the morning, if they awoke at all. But that didn’t stop him from halting in his tracks and making an odd squeaking noise when he saw it.

Kyoutani ran into him, which sent him stumbling forward a few steps.

“What the fuck – oh,” he said, spotting the bed.

“I’m going to use the bathroom first,” Yahaba said quickly. He grabbed his things from his trunk and hurried to shut himself in the safety of the small room.

For a moment, he studied his reflection in the mirror. His hair was still neat and parted properly, but his cheeks were pink, making him look distinctly ruffled. There was no denying it when the evidence was staring him right in the face. He was blushing because he had to share a bed with Kyoutani.

_It would be embarrassing with anyone_ , he thought. _It’s not because it’s him_.

He changed into his pajamas and brushed his teeth as slowly as possible, trying to prolong his stay in the bathroom. But eventually, he had to face the other boy.

Kyoutani was laying over the covers, propped up on a pillow against the headboard and reading his Herbology textbook. It was an oddly domestic scene, and Yahaba heard himself make another funny, strangled noise that drew Kyoutani’s attention. He quirked an eyebrow.

“Bathroom’s free,” Yahaba gritted out, and then occupied himself with pretending to rummage through his trunk until Kyoutani shut the door behind him.

Yahaba stared at the bed in utter despair for a few seconds. But rather than prolong his torture, he supposed he should just get on with. He climbed into bed.

It was comfortable, a great deal more comfortable than Yahaba’s bed in the dorms. He shifted around, adjusting his position, and was just beginning to see the positives of the situation when Kyoutani emerged from the bathroom. As soon as Yahaba saw him, he was upright and gaping.

“What the fuck?” Kyoutani said, having seen his entire reaction. “What’s the matter with you?”

“You’re not wearing pants,” Yahaba managed to get out. He felt this fact was self-evident, but apparently it warranted pointing out.

Because he wasn’t. Wearing pants, that is. Yahaba was. Yahaba’s pajamas were respectable, a gray shirt gone soft with wear and, most importantly, long flannel pants. Kyoutani, on the other hand, had elected to wear a t-shirt over his (black) boxers. Yahaba now knew what color underwear Kyoutani wore. He buried his face in his hands, for lack of a better option.

“I never wear them to bed?” Kyoutani’s voice was gruff, but it wound up into a question at the end uncertainly. Yahaba peered through his fingers. Kyoutani was still standing in the same spot, scratching his cheek and looking vaguely uncomfortable.

Yahaba thought fast. “It’s only….” He paused to adopt a haughty expression. “Hardly appropriate to wear to bed with someone else, is it.”

Kyoutani rolled his eyes. “Are all Slytherins such prudes? Didn’t think they were, if the rumors I’ve heard are true.”

“Rumors?” He shook his head. “Nevermind. Whatever. Just get in the damn bed.”

His comment earned him a raised eyebrow, and he felt himself blush harder. Pretending he hadn’t said anything potentially salacious, he turned around and wrapped himself in the comforter, desperately clinging to the vestiges of his sanity.

The bed dipped as Kyoutani heeded his instructions. He turned the light off with a wave of his wand, after reaching over to put a hand on Kyoutani’s arm first. Kyoutani turned so their backs were facing each other, which Yahaba was thankful for. If he ignored the sounds of Kyoutani’s breathing, he could almost pretend he was alone.

 

Yahaba woke up on his back, significantly warmer than when he’d fallen asleep. He frowned for a moment, shifting. There was a heavy weight on the top half of his body, and it was radiating heat. He opened his eyes reluctantly, and stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling. Grayish light of the kind that came just before dawn streamed through the window, half-illuminating the room. Yahaba blinked a few times, disoriented to find himself somewhere other than underground, in his four-poster.

Then, as he came into full wakefulness, he became aware of a few things. Most prominently that he and Kyoutani had moved at some point in the night, and were now – for the love of all things holy – _cuddling_.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Yahaba whispered. Kyoutani didn’t stir. His head was resting on Yahaba’s chest, and one arm was slung across Yahaba’s stomach. Their legs tangled together. Yahaba took a deep breath, heart pounding furiously like it wanted out. He sort of had to pee, but there was no way of moving without waking Kyoutani, and he rather felt that he’d prefer eating glass to having to look Kyoutani in the eye while they _cuddled_.

Yahaba angled his chin down so he could survey the boy who was practically crushing him to death. Kyoutani looked different in his sleep – not bad, just…softer, somehow. The angry lines of his face were smoothed away, leaving him looking younger and strangely vulnerable. And it helped that he wasn’t wearing eyeliner now. Without thinking, Yahaba lifted his hand and ran it through Kyoutani’s short-cropped bleached hair. It was a lot softer than he would have thought, and as he did it Kyoutani made an equally soft noise and snuggled in closer to Yahaba.

And then, he said something Yahaba wouldn’t have expected to hear from him, ever.

“Shigeru,” he muttered, sounding a million miles deep in dreamland. Yahaba’s heart stopped, and then started again double-time. It almost hurt. He removed his hand from Kyoutani’s hair, and wondered why it had been there to begin with.

_I must be going crazy_ , he thought. It was oddly reassuring, all things considered. _I’m going crazy, that’s why I’m here petting and_ cuddling _with Kyoutani, of all fucking people._ Kyoutani, who had been his worst enemy since first year. Kyoutani, who he fought with multiple times a month, even when they hardly saw each other. Kyoutani, who…was proving to not actually be that bad, really. They’d been getting along lately, even. Yahaba didn’t think they’d had a real fight at all the past couple weeks.

That didn’t mean that he was suddenly okay with petting and cuddling. He was distinctly _not_ okay with it. It made him feel wired, like he was being electrocuted softly from head to toe. Kyoutani shifted again, his arm reaching to grasp him more firmly around the middle. Yahaba squeaked, which turned out to be a royal fuck-up.

Kyoutani, who’d looked so deep in sleep a moment ago, was apparently actually a very light sleeper. At Yahaba’s undignified noise, his eyes flew open. For a moment, Yahaba stared into the intense, honey-colored depths and debated attempting to apparate through the Hogwarts wards to, well, anywhere that wasn’t the bed they were currently in.

He could see the exact moment Kyoutani realized what was going on. Abject horror flickered in his eyes, and his face rapidly turned that interesting reddish-purple color.

“Um. Good morning,” Yahaba offered.

Without a word, and moving as quickly as Yahaba had ever seen him, Kyoutani detached himself and left the bed, storming over to his trunk with incredibly loud stomps. He entered the bathroom and the door shut behind him with a slam.

_That went well_ , Yahaba thought, sighing to himself.

“Kyoutani,” he attempted, sitting up when the other boy exited the bathroom, now dressed in his school robes.

Kyoutani held up a hand. “It was nothing, okay?” he said, glaring at Yahaba in a way that he hadn’t for a while. “Nothing.” And then he turned around and left the room.

Yahaba sat in the bed with the sheets around his waist, feeling quite cold now that he was alone. And disappointed. Why disappointed? He didn’t know, but the feeling was intense and sudden, settling like an unpleasant weight in the pit of his stomach.

A horrible thought came to him as he brushed his teeth. Was he disappointed…because of what Kyoutani said? That it was nothing? Did he want it to be something?

Yahaba stared at his reflection. His cheeks were starting to color just entertaining the thought. He did, didn’t he. He wanted it to be something.

He spat into the sink, and watched the water swirl down the drain for a moment. Whatever he himself wanted, the fact was that Kyoutani had been more than eager to make it clear that it was _nothing_. Yahaba got dressed, frowning the whole time. It was nothing new to him, liking someone who didn’t like him back. He’d spent most of his school life having crushes on various straight boys. Kyoutani wasn’t straight, but he was still clearly uninterested.

Which meant Yahaba had to put these feelings aside. They weren’t going to do him any good, and he had to spend who knew how long in close proximity to Kyoutani. As if reminding him of that fact, he felt the beginnings of a telltale headache. Time to face Kyoutani again.

He made his way down to the Great Hall, fighting the pounding in his head along the way. When he approached the Hufflepuff table, it began to abate, and it drifted into nothingness when he sat down next to Kyoutani. Their shoulders brushed, and Yahaba felt pleasantly warm before he remembered himself.

He cut a sideways glance at Kyoutani, who was shoveling sausages into his mouth with his usual gusto.

“Good morning,” he said, again, hoping to god that they could put it behind them. Kyoutani said nothing.

So much for that.

Instead, Yahaba struck up a conversation with Akaashi, one of Kyoutani’s Hufflepuff housemates in the same year as Kunimi. Yahaba liked Akaashi, and not just because he was dating a Gryffindor boy. As he chatted, he could feel Kyoutani practically radiating tension beside him.

On their way to first period, Yahaba had enough of it.

“What’s your problem?” he demanded, stopping in the hallway.

Kyoutani seemed determined not to look him in the eye, instead focusing on a spot above his shoulder.

“What?” he grunted out.

“You know what,” Yahaba said, accusatory. “Need I remind you that we have to spend the foreseeable future working together in class? That’ll hardly go well if you won’t even look me in the eye.” _Look at me, Kyoutani_ , his traitorous mind thought.

Finally, those honey-colored eyes met Yahaba’s. He was leveled with another intense look, which thrilled something inside him. He’d never really noticed before, but being on the end of all that focused attention was a rush.

Perhaps, in the end, that was why he’d spent so much time trying to rile Kyoutani up. He just wanted the other boy to look at him.

“Fine,” Kyoutani said. “Let’s go to class, for fuck’s sake.”

Yahaba nodded approvingly. “Let’s.”

Being prepared for its inevitability didn’t make holding hands with Kyoutani in Transfiguration any easier, now that he was beginning to understand the nature of his feelings towards him. His hands were always so, so warm, just like the rest of him. Unable to stop the memory, Yahaba recalled how nice his body had felt pressed against Yahaba’s, how comfortably they’d fit together, the softness of his hair under Yahaba’s hand. He wanted to touch it again, he thought as he cast, but this time while Kyoutani was awake.

The end result was that Yahaba spent the majority of their lessons unfocused and red in the face.

Kyoutani followed him to the Slytherin table without complaint at dinner. He got along surprisingly well with Kunimi, and the two of them talked quietly as Yahaba laughed with Watari. Underneath the jokes, though, he felt a pang of regret that he couldn’t confide in Watari about his latest crush. Aside from being totally embarrassing, he would be spending all his time with Kyoutani around.

That night, of course, was an incredibly awkward affair. Not least because he had to be around Kyoutani in his underwear again. It was dead silent as they went about their nightly routines, and tension rolled off Kyoutani in waves as they settled in for the night.

“Well, goodnight,” Yahaba said. His voice sounded small and uncertain in the dark. He hadn’t really expected a reply, but Kyoutani gave him one.

“…night,” he grumbled out.

Yahaba smiled, despite himself, and curled up in the blankets, facing firmly away from Kyoutani.

When he opened his eyes again, he was in the greenhouse. Of course, Kyoutani was there, since he was always at his side these days. Instead of the interesting array of plants that usually flourished in the greenhouses, dozens of red rose bushes bloomed all around them. Kyoutani was pruning a bush, brow furrowed in concentration. Yahaba reached out and rubbed between his eyes, trying to smooth the lines away. That made Kyoutani turn to him and smile, a big, genuine smile like Yahaba had only seen a few times before, and never directed at him. He felt a rush of something startling and profound, and he leaned forward slowly. Kyoutani’s eyes fell shut, but Yahaba kept his open so he could be sure of where exactly to put his mouth –

“What the fuck,” Kyoutani said flatly, something barely controlled simmering in his voice. Yahaba’s eyes flickered open in confusion, and he found himself staring at Kyoutani – the real one, not the dream one – from far closer a distance than when they’d fallen asleep.

Shit, they were cuddling again. This time, it was Yahaba who’d curled himself around Kyoutani, and their faces were inches apart. For a moment, he wished fervently for death.  

Kyoutani shifted back as far as he could without falling off the bed, and sat up.

“Are you doing this shit on purpose?” he demanded. Yahaba thought that was a bit rich, and sat up to tell him so.

“Are you?” he shot back. His hair was flopping forward weirdly into his face, and he scrubbed it back with one hand.

Kyoutani looked away before muttering, “Fuck no.”

“Well neither am I, so don’t try to blame me.” The contrast between his pleasant, sunny dream and this conversation in the dreary morning light was doing odd things to him. He almost felt like he might cry, but quickly squashed that urge. Something of it must have shown on his face, though, because Kyoutani stopped looking so angry and peered at Yahaba.

“Shit, okay,” he said, almost placating. “I get it. I was just asking.”

“Is it such a bad thing, anyway?” Yahaba asked. As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could retract them. They seemed to hang awkwardly in the air while Kyoutani stared at Yahaba like he’d never seen him before.

He coughed, blushing intensely. The fact that he was always doing that around Kyoutani lately should’ve been his first clue, really.

“What’s that mean?” Kyoutani said finally.

Yahaba tossed up his hands in the universal ‘who knows’ gesture. He shook his head. “Forget I said anything.” He made to get off the bed, but a warm hand grabbed him around the wrist and pulled him back onto it.

“Yahaba,” Kyoutani said, evenly. In his mind, he heard Kyoutani mumbling _Shigeru_ against his chest and felt his face heat up even more.

“Yeah?” Yahaba said, making reluctant eye contact with Kyoutani. It was intense, like always, but there was something else there now, crackling between them like errant magic.

“Tell me. Because it almost sounds like you meant…you didn’t mind it.”

Yahaba bit down on his bottom lip, hard. “Uhhhh,” he said intelligently.

Kyoutani’s eyes were still burning into his. “Is that what you meant, Yahaba?”

“It was warm?” he offered. _Not as warm as my fucking face right now_ , he thought, and resisted the urge to laugh hysterically.

Kyoutani took a deep, careful breath. “I didn’t mind it either,” he said.

Yahaba’s mouth fell open. “But!” he protested. “You were so angry yesterday, you didn’t even want to talk to me.”

Kyoutani had the decency to look regretful. “Wasn’t angry,” he muttered, rubbing his neck. “I was…embarrassed, I guess.”

“It’s not like I was going to tell the whole school, or something.”

Kyoutani’s hand was still wrapped around Yahaba’s wrist, a blazing warmth sending tingles up his arm.

“Not embarrassed of that,” he said. His eyes came up slowly to meet Yahaba’s. “Embarrassed because…it’s you. I didn’t – don’t – want to look stupid. In front of you.”

“You didn’t look stupid,” Yahaba said immediately. _You looked cute_ , he definitely didn’t add.

Kyoutani snorted, and released Yahaba’s wrist in favor of running a hand over his hair. Unable to stop himself, Yahaba shifted closer and ran a hand over it too. Kyoutani froze, and Yahaba did too for a moment. Then, slowly, like Kyoutani was a wild animal that might spook, he did it again. It was just as soft as yesterday morning.

To Yahaba’s surprise, Kyoutani didn’t flinch out from underneath his hand. Instead, he did the opposite, closing his eyes and ducking his head slightly so Yahaba had more room to work with.

After a moment, Yahaba lowered his hand to Kyoutani’s neck, feeling the warm, smooth skin there. Kyoutani lifted his head, staring hard at Yahaba. It was that same intense look, and Yahaba had a feeling he knew what it meant, now.

Feeling somehow emboldened by that look, Yahaba pushed gently on Kyoutani’s neck, urging him forward. His eyes widened as he realized what Yahaba intended to do – but he made no move to stop it.

Yahaba paused, centimeters from Kyoutani’s lips. “Is this okay?” he whispered.

In response, Kyoutani grabbed Yahaba’s face and crushed their mouths together. Despite the violence of the motion, the kiss was sweet, and gentle, and Yahaba felt like he was burning alive at every point of contact with Kyoutani. It was perfect, except for the fact that it didn’t last nearly long enough.

Kyoutani pulled back, but kept his hands on either side of Yahaba’s face.

“I like your hair right now,” he said, out of nowhere.

Yahaba couldn’t help it. He burst into laughter. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

Kyoutani shrugged. “Normally you’re all prim and proper. But right now you’ve got bedhead just like everyone else.”

“Everyone but you,” Yahaba pointed out. And then, cautiously, he reached up and put his hand over one of Kyoutani’s.

He smiled in response, a perfect match for the one Yahaba saw in his dream. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while,” Kyoutani admitted, voice barely more than a mumble.

“I think I have too,” Yahaba said, thoughtfully. “Only I just figured it out yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” Kyoutani gaped at him. “You sure move fast, then.”

Yahaba smirked. “What can I say,” he said, curling the hand he still had around Kyoutani’s neck tighter. “When I want something, I get it.”

He was a Slytherin, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i'm so sorry i got behind schedule on posting this, various things happened but i won't offer excuses, just apologies! like i said at the beginning, the last chapter is short, so it should only take me a little bit to finish it up and post it! thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Another week passed before the breakthrough came. An owl brought them the news at breakfast – they were to spend first period in the hospital wing, drinking the antidote the professors perfected the night before.

Yahaba could’ve skipped the whole way there, but he settled for humming tunelessly as they made their way through the halls.

“I knew Professor Oikawa could fix this,” he said. It was an offhand comment, but Kyoutani scoffed.

“Took him fucking long enough.”

Yahaba cut a sidelong glance at him. His hands were stuffed in his pants pockets, and he was scowling faintly.

“You could be a bit happier,” he said. “Soon everyone will forget all about this, and stop teasing us.”

“And what about you?” Kyoutani asked, finally meeting his eyes.

“What about me?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Nevermind.”

His inexplicably sour mood continued all the way to the hospital wing, where Takeda proudly presented them with vials of a gooey, shimmery purple potion.

“Go ahead and drink up,” he said. “I’ll be back in a few to run the tests and be sure everything’s back to normal.”

Yahaba uncorked the vial. The potion smelled sort of minty, so hopefully it wouldn’t taste awful.

“Yahaba, wait.”

He paused, lowering the vial from his mouth and blinking at Kyoutani. “What?”

“You…are you…I mean….” He cut himself off, groaning.

“Hey.” Yahaba moved to sit next to him. “What’s up?”

He stared at the floor between his feet. “Just…the way you said you feel, about me. Are you sure it’s not because of this bond shit?”

Yahaba blinked. “Kyoutani, it wasn’t a love potion that we made. The way I feel has nothing to do with it. Besides…” he felt his face heating up, but soldiered on. “I told you before. I think I liked you way before this, I just didn’t want to admit it.”

Kyoutani switched from staring at the floor to studying the ceiling. He mumbled something, but all Yahaba caught were the words ‘fourth year.’

“Hm?”

He glared at the stone above them. “I said. I’ve liked you since fourth year.”

Yahaba’s eyes widened. “You…oh. Wow.”

“This week…I’ve been really happy. I’ve wanted this forever. So I don’t…I don’t want you to drink that shit and then suddenly realize it was all a mistake.”

Yahaba leaned into him. He knew it wasn’t appropriate at the moment, but he felt almost giddy. Kyoutani had liked him for over three years. And really, he’d been vying for Kyoutani’s attention since they met. He could hardly help the disgustingly sweet feelings he was having.

“I promise, okay?” he said. “I’m going to drink this right now. And nothing will change. Well, except for the fact that we’ll get our free periods back.”

Kyoutani snorted. “Whatever you say,” he said, but he sounded considerably less pissed off. Yahaba was starting to realize that when Kyoutani seemed mad, half the time it was some other emotion masquerading as anger. He reached out, lacing their fingers together.

“Alright, let’s do it before Takeda-sensei gets back.”

They drank. To his relief, it tasted exactly like it smelled. There was a burn as it went down, like he’d swallowed mouthwash. A steady tingling chill spread through him, all the way to his fingertips. When it was gone, it left a faint sense of liberation in its wake.

“Wow,” Yahaba said. “I definitely think that worked. Professor Oikawa really is amazing.”

“Teacher’s pet,” Kyoutani accused.

When he turned to protest this, adamantly, Kyoutani was already staring at him. Searching, hopeful, anxious. Yahaba squeezed his hand, smiling.

“What, are you jealous?” he teased.

Kyoutani looked away, but Yahaba caught his smile. “Nah. You already said I’m the one you like. And I believe you.”

Yahaba laughed brightly, and almost didn’t hear Takeda clearing his throat.

He smiled down at their joined hands, but didn’t comment on it. “How are you two feeling?”

“Never better,” Yahaba said. Beside him, Kyoutani was warm, like his own personal sun. That warmth seeped into him from everywhere they touched, and though he was sure the antidote had worked, he just knew – even if it hadn’t, nothing could ruin this moment for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's all! sorry i suck at keeping a schedule. it's gay culture. but thanks so much for reading, and have a good day!!


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